


Butterflies & Hurricanes

by to_the_wick (Jei_Stark)



Series: Pressure Suit [11]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jei_Stark/pseuds/to_the_wick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's first mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies & Hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Pressure Suit fanmix covering the entirety of the first Iron Man movie, this fic was written to the song "Butterflies & Hurricanes" by Muse.

_change everything you are  
and everything you were  
your number has been called  
fights and battles have begun  
revenge will surely come  
your hard times are ahead  
best, you've got to be the best_  
  
"Mark."  
  
The helmet's faceplate clicked into place, and Tony's senses were immediately bombarded with the visuals of the built in HUD -- everything from a simple horizon line to a detailed blow up analysis of all functioning systems, including an intricate and detailed visual of his own body: blood pressure, heart rate, hydration. You name it, it was either already there or ready to be called up at a moment's notice. But he wasn't looking at any of this; his eyes were concentrating instead on a small square at the corner of his view, replaying the saved CNN report which described the most recent goings on in Gulmira.  
  
"Bring up ETA."  
  
His words were an afterthought even as he mumbled them out. The calculation came up at another corner, and he paid little mind to it; he was still watching the report. It was muted, but the visuals were there clearly. If Jarvis was speaking, he certainly wasn't paying attention to him. At this point, he was little more than air wave chatter. AM radio on low volume while driving with the top down -- and he wasn't even flying yet.  
  
"Let's move. Thrusters at five, on five."  
  
His voice was even, neutral, the same as his face was -- though both his face and voice were tight somehow, stretched over him like a thin mask, hiding whatever was going on underneath. Afterward, when he thought about that moment, about his first real mission, even _he_ couldn't place what exactly had went on in his head, what exactly he was hiding.  
  
Himself, maybe. Because, for once, it wasn't about him.


End file.
